When Sydney was born a preemie, a month before her due date, it definitely brought out the protective mother bear in me. I felt fiercely protective of this teeny tiny little being whose life was being entrusted in my hands. It seemed impossible to imagine that there would ever be a time where it would be unacceptable to be with her.
Then she turned three. And suddenly she was off to preschool five mornings a week all on her own, and most of the activities that we had enjoyed together were now considered "drop off", meaning Mom didn't have to hang around if she didn't want to. I wasn't sure how I felt about all of this happening all at once. Sydney and I are very deeply bonded, and she has always had such a difficult time being away from me. We have come a long way in three years, but she still has many moments where she wants nothing other than Mommy!
I shared a few weeks back about a conundrum that I was having with the art class that I had Sydney enrolled in. Syd really loves art, she literally asks to paint every single day, and so enjoys going to art class. She and I have been doing a class together for the past year or so, and this fall I enrolled her in an ages 3-5 year old artist of the month class. This class was meant to be drop-off style, and seeing she was very familiar with the art studio and teacher, I assumed that she'd be fine being dropped off.
Well, I was wrong. She cried once I left and fussed throughout class and asked a million times for me. So the instructor suggested that maybe I come to pick her up a bit early, then one week she called and asked me to get her fifteen minutes into class as she wouldn't stop crying. I was so reluctant to pull her out of class all together, so I offered to sit quietly and read in the corner during the next week's class, just so she'd be comfortable with my presence in the room, and it seemed to work out great last week.
So I assumed that this would be the way things would keep going until this afternoon when I got to class. Sydney got her smock on, got settled at the art table and started colouring and then the teacher dropped the bomb. She pulled me aside and basically said that I wasn't welcome to stay in class, she had a hard rule about no parents, and that if Sydney wasn't able to be there without me, we were going to have to leave.
I tried to stay open minded about her comments, realizing that instructing a class of children is always difficult and that everyone has preferences about the way they like to conduct a class. But I also wanted to launch into a lecture about how every child is different, and that some take longer than others to be comfortable in situations and that I was just trying to get to that point with Sydney, and it would only take a few weeks longer, I was sure of it.
Instead, I took my now sobbing child by the hand, stripped her art smock off, pried the pastel out of her hand, and marched out the door indignantly. Sydney had no idea what was going on or why she couldn't stay in art class. Poor girl, I tried to explain it to her as simply as possible without throwing her beloved instructor under the bus, but I was ticked, I admit.
As is always the case in situations like this, I picked up the phone and called Paul to tell him what had just gone down. He often has a way of talking me down when I get riled up about things like this. I felt better after I had vented to him and then thought to myself, "this is a huge city with a million art classes for kids, just find another one that works for her!" So, while I was standing in the middle of the toy store, where I had taken Sydney to cheer her up, I started furiously calling around to other art classes to gather some information.
I ended my time on the phone with a call to the instructor who had sent us home today, to ask her to refund me for our remaining classes. We ended up having a long conversation and airing a few things out about our expectations around art class for Sydney at this age, and in the end she graciously offered to give Sydney private art lessons for the rest of the term with me there to cheer her on! Win, win.
So at the end of the day, I realize as a Mom there are always new lessons to be learned. Hopefully next time I'll take a minute to cool my jets, and think if there's a way to solve a conundrum before reacting. I am so much better about this when it comes to things that don't involve my baby. For whatever reason, I feel as though I need to fight fiercely for her when faced with opposition. Somehow I have the feeling this won't be the last time this is going to happen. Let's hope next time I handle things a little more serenely!
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